Some days, I am convinced Ritalin has caffeine in it. Most days, I’m convinced I’m taking sugar pills.
I still haven’t written a proper recap of our wedding reception. It’s been well over a week now. At this point, it will either be a half-assed rehashing of the day, or it won’t get written. I’m not sure which direction I’m leaning towards at this point in time.
My stomach and GI tract have been doing interesting things the past several days. I am not a fan. I will leave it at that.
I see WordPress has another update to the theme I’m currently using. I think I’ll put off actually updating it. Last time I did, it hosed my stylesheet. I’m not in the mood to fix that just yet. I’m still trying to figure out how to modify the appearance of links. Get rid of the freaking underline DAMN YOU! My amateur CSS skillz are not applying to WordPress the same way they do to every other freaking website I’ve worked on. What. Ever. Word. Press.
I cleaned the toilet today. I feel freaking accomplished. I am a housewife, dammit. Where’s my tub of bonbons?
My blood pressure has been teetering on the high end of normal and my pulse has been bouncing between racy and okay. I’m guessing it’s the amphetamines. I miss my awesome numbers. And I really, really, REALLY HATE that racy-heart feeling.
I can never find my pulse on my wrists. Ever. How do nurses do it? Also, I always count my pulse way higher than the BP monitor does. Does it fluctuate that much between checking my BP and just checking my pulse? Or does checking it on my neck skew the numbers? Or am I just completely insane?
I already know that answer to that.
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Call It My Way Ingram Hill |